The Pain Season by Libby
Doyle

Tonight’s the night. Rainer Barakiel is
going to tell me all his secrets. I thought I’d be excited, but I feel like
someone shoved a knife into my gut.

Heh. Fitting, considering I met Rainer
because of his expertise in edged weapons. The daggers used in that ritual
sacrifice became our best lead thanks to him. What kind of omen is it, that I
met the love of my life because someone found a human spleen in the bushes?

I didn’t expect someone like him. When he
opened his door I couldn’t talk, I was so stunned. God, how I flirted with him.
Hell of a way for an FBI agent to act. This whole relationship is a hell of a
way for an FBI agent to act. I didn’t want to face that he was hiding things
from me.

What if he has something to do with this
murder?

I’m being paranoid. He’s denied being a
criminal and I believe him. I don’t see how my instincts could be so wrong. He
can’t be bad. He can’t.

He’s hiding things from me, but he loves
me. I feel it. Maybe he didn’t expect to fall in love with me, but he did, and
now he wants out. He’s going to confess, leave it all behind. For me.

I wonder, after he tells me all his
secrets, will this become a wacky story we love to tell? Or a story I tell only
to myself, alone in a stale-smelling apartment, stewing in pain? The story of
how my heart got damaged beyond repair.

WARNING: This book contains foul language,
violence, and explicit sex. Adults only, please. Although not a cliffhanger,
this is not a stand-alone novel. The story began in The Passion Season, and will
continue in The Vengeance Season.

Excerpt – Autumnal Equinox – Chapter 1

Set up: Barakiel, a superhuman warrior from another
dimension, has just killed a gang of demons who attacked Zan O’Gara, the woman
he loves. This shocking introduction to his true identity made Zan run away,
but not before she called 911 and made a stand against the demons. Being an FBI
agent, she was armed. She killed two of the beasts, but the gunfire resulted in
another 911 call. Barakiel became catatonic in the wake of an emotional scene
with Zan. The police arrived, and were handled by Pellus, Barakiel’s trusted
friend. Pellus is a traveler adept, a type of Covalent who can manipulate the
properties of matter and energy.

***

In a few minutes,
Pellus heard the crunch of gravel in the driveway. He looked through the
peephole as two police officers emerged from their vehicles, one tall and fat,
the other short and muscular. They looked around suspiciously. Pellus thought
it best to play a frightened senior citizen, so he adopted the dry, gray hair
and shriveled skin of an old human. He opened the side door.

“Officers. I am
so glad you are here! I thought I heard gunfire.”

“Yes, sir,” the
short one said, as the other headed to the main building and peered in the
window. “We received a couple of emergency calls. A woman said she was being
attacked at this address, then a few minutes later someone reported shots
fired.”

“No woman lives
here officers. Maybe she is somewhere nearby.”

“Did you see
anyone in your yard?”

“No, but I was
afraid to look out.”

“Could you tell
where the shots were coming from?” the officer asked, as his tall colleague
rejoined them.

“No, I am sorry.
It was confusing. They seemed like they were coming from everywhere.”

The two of them
stepped away to confer. They obviously didn’t think Pellus could hear them. The
tall one told the short one that he couldn’t see anyone in the house. He said
the owner was obviously rich, and that the place would appeal to a burglar or a
home invader. They stepped back to Pellus.

“Are you sure you
didn’t see anyone?”

“Yes, I am sure.”

“Is this your
place?”

“No. My nephew’s.
I am watching it for him while he is away on a business trip.”

“Your nephew,”
said the short one. He poked at a handheld device for a minute or two. “Uh,
records show this place is owned by B&P Bridesburg, Ltd. What’s that?”

“My nephew’s company.
His name is Rainer Barakiel.”

“Does he own a
gun?”

“Not that I know
of.”

“What’s with the
get up?” asked the tall officer, pointing at Pellus’ brown robes.

“I am from
Kyrgyzstan. This is how we dress at home.”

The officer
frowned. “Mind if we look around?” he asked.

“Please do.” They
headed toward the back of the main building, where the yard was sunk in
darkness. Pellus followed. As they neared the edge of the building, the adept
noticed goldish glints of color in the grass. For a moment, he was confused.
Then he realized.

Shell casings from the gunfire!

He began to cough
violently and stumble. The officers stopped walking. The short one grabbed
Pellus’ arm.

“Are you all
right, sir?”

Pellus waved him
off and faced the back of the yard, his hand to his chest. He continued to
cough and tremble. It gave him the chance to adjust his vision so he could see
molecular structure of the cursed bits of metal against the structure of the
grass and soil. He bent forward, pretending to catch his breath as he broke the
bonds that held the metal in the form of shell casings. Tiny shards of metal
remained in the grass.

I can only hope they do not notice. I have no time for
anything else.

“Are you sure
you’re all right, sir?” the short officer asked.

“Yes, please.
Just give me a moment.”

Although it took
much longer than Pellus would have liked, the short officer waited next to him,
perhaps afraid he would keel over. The tall one walked over to the hedges that
grew next to the compound wall and peered up at the elevated pipeline that ran
along the south side of the property, a remnant of the chemical plant that had
once operated there.

“I am sorry,”
Pellus said when he had finished. “I will be fine. Do what you need to
do.”

Find the book and the series at:

About the Author

Libby Doyle is an attorney and former
journalist who took a walk around the corporate world and didn’t like it. She
escapes the mundane by writing extravagant yarns, filled with sex and violence.
She loves absurd humor, travel, punk rock, and her husband. Discover
more at http://libbydoyle.com/index.html

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